


Still Here

by MochiiPrincess



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mutual Pining, Reader-Insert, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 18:30:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20661788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MochiiPrincess/pseuds/MochiiPrincess
Summary: After taking a nearly fatal blow for you, you find yourself unable to sleep until you've finally managed to nurse your not-quite-lover back to relative health - or at least until he finally wakes up.





	Still Here

“Don’t move.” The words were wobbly, garbled, too loud as they pounded against his eardrums then too quiet as the syllables faded into near silence, fading in and out with the pounding in his head. The pressure on his shoulders felt strange, his body too weak to fight against even the feeble press and so he gave in, relaxing himself again and giving in to the voice that had woken him.

“Ugh.” Opening his eyes was a mistake. Sylvain groaned as the light flooded his vision, immediately screwing his eyes shut again. Why the hell was it so _bright_ in here? Wherever the hell here was…

“I said don’t move.” The voice scolded again, clearer this time as Slyvain let his head flop to the side, fleeing from the attack of the lights. 

Braving their onslaught once more Sylvain let his eyes open again, much more slowly this time, orange lashes fluttering against too pale skin as he squinted up at the voice, looking for whoever it was scolding him so early in the morning. Was it morning? With groggy limbs and a fuzzy mind, Sylvain certainly _felt_ like it was - and a shit one at that.

“[Name]?” The words burned his throat and Sylvain grimaced as he swallowed down the urge to cough, “Heh. Your voice isn’t so bad to wake up to first thing in the morning.” Sylvain prepared himself for the smack that would usually follow such flirtations, only to find his brow furrowing when it never came. He almost missed the half-flirtations smack of your palm against his chest after a terrible attempt at flirting now that it was gone.

“Leave it to you to keep joking even after… after…” The sudden pain in your voice, words cracking under the weight of it, alarmed Sylvain immediately. Eyes daring open to see you worry flooded him; your eyes were heavy, drawn down by heavy purple bags, your skin was several shades paler than it should have been…

Sitting up all too quickly sylvain tried to reach for you only to find his world spinning out from under him and his stomach splitting in burning pain. Cursing, Sylvain dropped himself back to the bed beneath him, a shaking hand on his head as his stomach screamed, throbbing in protest of his actions.

“Slyvain! You’ll open your stitches!” Stitches. Stitches? Why would he need--

It was then that it came back to him. A bloody battlefield, bodies decorating the moorland on both sides; and one of your own soldiers at your back, sword poised to run you through. He remembered little after that: a scream of your name (had it been from him?), a cry of his own, and searing pain - worse pain than he had ever experienced in his life. Screaming, burning, a stomach-sickening mixture of relief and dread… then nothing. 

“Right.” Finally settling into your admonitions Sylvain settled himself on the cot (he was in the infirmary, he was sure now) beneath him with an arm over his forehead, staring at you with low-lidded eyes as you hovered over him.

“You’re cute when you worry about me, you know.” The glare you sent him would have been even cuter if Sylvain hadn’t been able to see the worry behind it, the fear in your exhausted eyes lying just beneath the surface.

“This isn’t a joke Sylvain!” There they were - all the emotions hiding just beneath the surface, “You could have… you, you almost…”

“But I _didn’t._” Sylvain’s voice dropped, finally serious as he cut you off, not letting you finish the sentence that had your voice wavering and your eyes averting, burning with unshed tears.

“I’m right here.” An assurance, softer as your gaze met his again. There was a pause as you let his words sink in, trying to be discreet as you wiped an eye with the pad of your thumb and nodded.

“Come here.” After giving you a few moments to collect yourself, to let his words truly, fully sink in, Sylvain raised a weary arm and offered his embrace to you.

“You look exhausted. I think we could both use some rest.” Cutting you off before you could even ask what he was getting up to Sylvain urged you to accept.

“C’mon, I won’t try anything you don’t want me to.” Wiggling his brows Sylvain hoped to make you laugh - something he almost succeeded in, tips of your lips curling against your better judgement and head turning to hide your mouth’s betrayal from him.

“I’ll still be here in the morning. Promise.” A calculating look with squinted eyes raked over Sylvain, weighing his offer before your shoulders finally slumped and you sighed, defeated and assenting.

Too exhausted for words, too many sleepless nights finally hitting you now that Sylvain was finally awake, finally out of immediate danger, finally present again, you found your limbs almost too heavy to climb into bed beside Sylvain. Still, you were sure to keep your movements gentle as you settled in beside him. 

It only took you a few minutes to fall asleep, much to Sylvain’s surprise. A look equally fond and worried settled on Sylvain’s features as he looked at you. He could only imagine how much he must have worried you, how long you must have spent in the chair positioned at the edge of his bed doting on him, dressing his wounds, treating him as you watched, waited, for him to finally show some sign of getting better.

“It serves you right, you know. You scared me back there too.” Sylvain didn’t remember much from that battle, from just before his injury; but he did remember just how terrified, how mortally petrified, the thought of anything happening to you left him. He never wanted to feel that again.

But looking at you now, curled up next to him and breathing softly, fingers ever so slightly curled over his arm, Sylvain let the tension that had worked its way into his body leave again. Despite the scare you were here - you were alright. That was worth any amount of pain he might have to experience to keep things that way.

“Sweet dreams, [Name.]” With a gentle kiss to your forehead Sylvain let his own eyes slip closed, comforted by the thought that you’d still be there in the morning.


End file.
